Bourbon on the Rocks (The Barrel House Series Book 2)

by Shari J. Ryan

  I knew whatever he had to say would not be good.

  It was just him and me. Brian was tall, so he took a seat on a chair in the hallway and took my hands with his to get a more direct look at my face. “As the doctors suspected, Adam has significant brain and spinal cord damage. There could be some improvements over time, but he will probably be bed ridden indefinitely.”

  All the hope I hadn’t given up on felt as though someone had stolen it from me—like a punch to the back, stealing my wind. I thought if he woke up, he would go back to—some kind of normal. “So, this is it?”

  “He can’t speak, walk, or move anything below his neck,” Adam’s dad tells me, his eyes filling with tears. I didn’t know how anyone could produce the number of tears we have all shed over the last two years, but they must have been coming from a bottomless well.

  “Does he know where he is or what’s happened?” I ask, unsure of the answer I want to hear.

  “Yes, we think he can understand everything. It’s hard for him to respond, though. We’re working with blinking gestures right now. However, he has moments of blank looks and stares, so we won’t know the extent of his brain activity until the doctors are ready to do more advanced testing.”

  “So, what now?” I asked.

  Adam’s dad releases my hands and crosses his arms over his chest, breaking eye-contact with me. “I’m not sure. We’re trying to figure things out. A nursing facility will be very expensive. Live-in care isn’t ideal for him with the amount of help he will need and financially, it isn’t any better of an option. We’re hoping we can make something work that will benefit him the most.”

  What if they couldn’t figure it out? It was the only question I had in mind. Would they have to let him rot? I couldn’t understand why insurance wouldn’t cover the medical expenses needed, but I knew it had already been two years of medical care too. “If I can help in any way—”

  “Journey, this isn’t something you need to be concerned with, okay? Why don’t you go visit with him,” he said, squeezing my shoulder.

  I walked back into the room and pulled a chair up to Adam’s side, taking his hand within mine as I had done days before to my trek across the country. “I’m so happy you’re awake,” I told him. “I’ve wanted to apologize for so much, but I don’t want you to forgive me. I just want you to know I’m here, and I’ll stay by your side.”

  Adam twisted his head ever so slightly and tried to look at me through his peripheral. A tear fell from his eye, and he closed his eyelids, hiding what I could only assume to be pain.

  Brody and I pull up to the nursing facility in his truck. “Wow, this place is beautiful,” Brody says.

  “Yeah, it’s nice here.”

  “This must cost them a fortune. I can’t even imagine.”

  “It doesn’t cost them anything,” I tell him.

  Brody parks the truck in the guest parking area and steps out, taking my hand as we walk toward the front entrance. “Thank goodness for that.” We walk inside, and Brody takes a minute to glance around at the botanical surroundings, the waterfall, and tastefully decorated open lobby. “I’ve never seen a place like this before. It’s gorgeous.”

  It’s a lot better than the first place he was in.

  “Yeah, the staff is great here, too,” I tell him.

  “Okay, what room is he in?” Brody pulls in a sharp breath as if he’s nervous. The bag from Walmart crinkles in his hand, and he takes another look around.

  “He’s in room 303. No one should be in there right now. His family is at a therapy appointment for the next hour.” I point toward the elevator, feeling the nerves flicker through my stomach. “I’ll wait over here by the fountain.”

  Brody gives me a quick peck on the lips and walks off. My mind is spinning, wondering if this is a bad idea, praying it’s not. I shouldn’t prevent anyone from seeing Adam. It’s not my right, but what if this internally sends Adam through some kind of pain we don’t know about? It would be my fault again.

  I scroll through my phone, anxiously watching the minutes pass, but at the twenty-minute mark, I decide I can’t sit here anymore. I need to see what’s going on. I’m quick to make my way to the third floor and stop outside of Adam’s room, hearing Brody talking to him.

  “If I had known, I would have visited sooner. There was little talk about what happened that night, which I’m sure you know by now. But, when I ran into Journey recently and found out what had happened, my heart broke. I was an idiot that night. I knew you had just broken up and were there, but I didn’t think twice about what I had done. It shouldn’t have ended the way it did, and if I had known what was about to happen—I know I’m not making any sense right now. I would never intentionally cause anyone pain or worse, and I wish there was something I could do to undo what happened. I’m so sorry, Adam.”

  I hear the crackling of the plastic bag Brody has. “Journey said you enjoy watching DVDs, so I grabbed some for you. Maybe they are new ones you haven’t seen yet. I have a good eye for movies so I can help you out with that.” Brody clears his throat as the sound of the bag of DVDs collapses on a hard surface. “I hope it’s okay if I come to visit you. People say I can keep anyone entertained with as much as I talk. I didn’t think it was a good thing to keep hearing, but maybe it could come in handy here.” There’s a moment of silence, and I wonder what’s going on, but then I hear Brody continue. “Is it okay if I continue to visit?”

  I turn the corner, wondering if Adam is responding. I’m not sure Brody would know what his blinks mean, and I’m curious to know what Adam is thinking. I walk in, just in time to see Adam blink one time. “That means, yes,” I tell Brody.

  I dash across the room, so Adam doesn’t have to wonder why I’m here or if it’s me who’s speaking. “Hey,” I say to Adam, placing a kiss on his cheek.

  Adam slowly twists his head to look at me, and I notice a small curve in his lips—the hint of a smile he’s capable of. “I—ah, debated if it was appropriate to bring Brody here to visit you. He didn’t know much about the accident until we ran into each other recently. I hope it’s okay that he’s here?” I know I’m repeating what Brody just asked him, but I needed to repeat the question for my sanity. Adam blinks once again, telling me he agrees.

  Adam takes his time to glance over at Brody, then back at me, another arch of his lips perks against his cheeks, and he blinks once. “Oh, no—" I respond, knowing I’m lying, and I wish I could take back my thoughtless response.

  Adam blinks once more. I wonder if he understands. Does he see something more than what I think is visible to the naked eye? Would someone who has been trapped in a body for so long want happiness for anyone else? Maybe I’m misunderstanding it all.

  “This week has been crazy with work,” I tell Adam. “Oh, and you’ll be happy to know I went to the doctor.” Adam blinks in response. “I’m going to go back to the therapist and nutritionist.” Another blink.

  Adam looks over at Brody, staring at him for a moment. I can tell Brody is unsure of what to say, but he tells Adam, “I’m going to make sure she gets better.”

  Adam returns his gaze to me and blinks.

  I didn’t think I could ever imagine having a conversation full of agreeing and disagreeing blinks, but there’s comfort in knowing Adam can share a small piece of what’s going on in his head. I might not always assume correctly, but I think I understand most of the time.

  “Want me to put one of the new DVDs in for you?”

  Adam blinks twice, telling me no. The TV isn’t on, so I’m confused since he likes to keep it on. Adam looks toward the bag on the dresser beneath the TV. “Oh, do you want to see the DVDs?” Brody asks him, picking up on his cue before me.

  Adam blinks once.

  Brody jumps from his seat and takes the stack out of the bag, placing them in a pile to show Adam each one. He shuffles through the stack once, then goes through them a second time, waiting for a hint of which one Adam wants to watch. Adam blinks when Brody h
olds up Top Gun, a DVD I never thought to purchase.

  “Yes, a classic. You have good taste, my man,” Brody tells him. “Maverick?”

  Adam blinks twice.

  “Goose?”

  Adam blinks once.

  “Yes!” Brody exclaims.

  My heart is bursting with joy and happiness. I never expected this moment to occur. I thought Adam would despise me for bringing Brody here, and I wouldn’t truly know if it was the case. The relief is overwhelming, and I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  We spend the next two hours watching the movie with Adam, but he quickly falls asleep shortly after the credits begin rolling. I nod my head to tell Brody we should get going. He stands and walks toward the door while I kiss Adam on his head and whisper, “I love you” into his ear before leaving. “See you next week.”

  Brody and I were quiet as we left the facility, but as soon as we sat down in the truck, Brody teared up, squeezing his fingers around the bridge of his nose. “Shit,” he says.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, placing my hand on his knee.

  “No, not at all. I get it, Journey. I get why you take the blame, and though I know the accident wasn’t our fault, it was because of us.”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “He doesn’t deserve this,” he says. “Are we horrible people?”

  He’s asking me the same question I ask myself every day. “I’m not the right person to ask,” I tell him honestly.

  Brody tosses his head back against his seat and turns his head to look at me. “You are an incredible person, Journey. I’m amazed by you, and I just fell for your heart, your soul—I want to be the kind of person you are. Is that weird?”

  I smile because I love his raw honesty. “Very, but a little cute, at the same time.”

  “Journey, I just have one question that’s boggling my mind. How is Adam living there for free?”

  “I never said he was living here for free.”

  21

  I had been married for three months to a man I hadn’t seen or spoken to in the same amount of time. I hadn’t attempted to reach him, but I needed to undo what I had done. Klanner Trucking was the company he worked for. I had his name and the company, which was all I needed to locate him, thankfully. I didn’t know what I would say aside from sorry, but all I had done was marry him while drunk on my twenty-first birthday, then took the ten-thousand-dollar ring with me. The ring was still sitting in my coat pocket, which I hadn’t wore since the morning I got home from Vegas.

  I spoke to a receptionist for his company and left a phone number for him to reach me. I was shocked to find out he was still working for Klanner Trucking after winning the jackpot. The woman said she would reach out to him and give him the message with my information. It was less than a few hours before my phone rang with an unrecognized number.

  I was a nervous wreck saying, “Hello.”

  “Journey?” Tucker questioned as if I was a ghost from his past—one he never expected to speak to again.

  “I—I am so sorry for running off. I found out my ex-boyfriend had come out of his coma and I just—”

  “I understand,” he said. “How do you want to handle this? We’re still legally married.”

  “I think an annulment will be the best option. I can send the ring to you. An annulment will make sure you keep all your assets too. I don’t want you to think I had intentions of taking half of what was yours and then running off. It just looked that way.”

  There was a pause before Tucker responded. “I didn’t think you were trying to trick me. I figured I scared you off. Plus, I didn’t hear from you, so it wasn’t like I thought you were after the money since it’s in my possession.”

  “I’m not after your money at all. I’m just trying to figure out my life, and I’m sorry I pulled you down with me.”

  “Don’t be. I enjoyed our time together.”

  “Okay, well, I will talk to an attorney about starting the process of an annulment. I’ll probably need some information from you to do so, but I’ll see what that entails first.”

  “Whatever you need,” Tucker said. He didn’t seem as upset as I thought he might be. Maybe he realized it was a mistake after I left too. How could he not? His new wife was gone within twenty-four hours of taking vows.

  “Is this a good number to reach you at?” I sounded like I was completing a business deal.

  “Yes, this is my cell.”

  “Thank you for being understanding.”

  “Of course.”

  The call ended, and I felt like a complete jerk, but we were both part of the stupid decision. I couldn’t focus on Tucker though because Adam needed me.

  I walked back into the new room Adam would be living in indefinitely. His parents found him a bed at a local nursing facility. The place was run down and smelled like urine. He was the youngest resident by at least sixty years, but he most likely didn’t notice. The staff wasn’t very attentive and barely gave him the minimal attention needed to keep him clean and comfortable. His parents, Tracey, and I took turns visiting to check on him, making sure his vitals were being maintained properly, but we came to notice the care he was receiving was degrading by the day. His room began to smell as horrible as the rest of the facility, the sheets were no longer being changed regularly, and he wasn’t being moved enough to prevent bed sores. Adam was starting to sleep more than he was awake, and we feared he might fall back into a coma without knowing what was causing him so much exhaustion.

  Adam’s parents were frustrated, and guilt was eating at them, knowing they couldn’t provide better means for their son, who was already suffering. Those feelings trickled down to me, becoming a constant reminder of what I caused.

  My stomach ached all the time. The nerves from anxiety, the nausea, and constant sadness was making me feel sick whenever I ate. It was as if I was putting a bunch of acidic foods in a blender and filling my body with it, so it felt better to avoid food, which was easy to do as I sat hunched over in a chair beside Adam’s bed for hours each day, waiting for his sister or parents to relieve me.

  Tracey was due in and was never late, which I was thankful for at the moment because I wanted to make the call to an attorney and start the process of an annulment so I could put just one thing behind me. Tracey came in at three on the dot and put on a smile for Adam’s sake, as we all did. He was asleep, though. She waved her hand in front of her nose and clenched her eyes.

  “I know. It’s bad today,” I told her.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Oh, did you get ahold of Tucker?”

  Tracey and I had become close, spending so much time together, and I confided in her a lot, sometimes more than Melody. Tracey was good at listening. Melody was good at pushing her opinions on me, but I did the same to her. Sisters could get away with it. Tracey was a practicing psychologist, though, and was trained to handle matters of the heart a little differently, which Adam’s family desperately needed.

  “I reached him, and he’s cool with the annulment and seemed to understand my reason for running.” I shrugged because there was nothing else to say, and I didn’t think I deserved that kind of easy release from Tucker.

  “Well, good,” Tracey said. “Now, you can just contact an attorney and get things moving in the right direction.”

  “Exactly,” I told her.

  “Everyone does things out of haste, and you can’t beat yourself up over this. You’re doing the right thing—correcting your mistakes. It’s how we learn in life; you know this.” Some mistakes couldn’t be fixed. I learned that too. “Will you help me move Adam before you go since I doubt the nurses will be in any time soon? He looks uncomfortable.”

  I stand from my seat, and she places her bags down on the chair behind her. We’re so used to moving Adam that we tend to our normal positions on either side of him and count to three before shifting him around. He had lost so much weight throughout the previous two years that he wasn’t difficult to move.

 
; “I better get going,” I told Tracey while kissing Adam on the cheek. Then, I whispered in Adam’s ear, “I still love you even though I hope you hate me with every fiber of your being. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good luck with the attorney. Let me know how it goes,” Tracey said as I gathered my belongings.

  “I will,” said, giving her a hug before heading out.

  The moment I arrived home, I closed myself into my bedroom and made a phone call to the attorney I had gotten a number for. I figured she wouldn’t answer, and I would have to leave a message, but surprisingly, she picked up the phone.

  The call ended five minutes later, leaving me with the worst-case answer of, “You can’t qualify for an annulment because neither you nor your husband were residents in the state of Nevada for at least six weeks prior to the nuptials. Your only option is a dissolution of the marriage—a divorce.” All I could think about was the news of celebrities annulling their sporadic Vegas marriages after just two days. How could they do it and I couldn’t?

  The sick feeling in my stomach grew to the point of pain. I felt trapped and suffocated within my body. Without knowing what else to do, I ran to the bathroom and forced myself to vomit, leaving me with a euphoria of free space, emptiness, and a different kind of pain—one I quickly learned to prefer over everything else.

  It was the day a sickness took over my being.

  Brody is parked in the lot outside of my apartment. His hands are tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and he stares out toward the landscape of mountains. “You used the money from your divorce to support Adam, didn’t you?” he asks.

  He makes it sound like I didn’t try to send the money back first. “Tucker refused to take my half of the assets. He said, ‘This amount of money won’t offer me the happiness I’m seeking, and it won’t do me much good.’ He was right. The money wasn’t worth anything to me either, for the same reason. Anyway, a thought came to me in my sleep one night after the final conversation I had with Tucker. Maybe my ridiculous road-trip across the country was meant to bring me an upside-down kind of fate. If Tucker wouldn’t take the money back, then I could use the money to get Adam the care he needed. It wouldn’t offer me forgiveness because nothing would, but it was something.”